


Wagers and Deals

by flashforeward



Category: Howlin' Bones - Hannah Aldridge (Song)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Devils, Gen, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: A meeting at a crossroads.





	Wagers and Deals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minutia_R](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/gifts).



> Thank you to D for betaing!
> 
> Minutia_R,
> 
> Reading your letter, I was drawn to your thoughts on this song and the possibility of the narrator being some sort of devil or demon, so that's what I went with for this story. I hope you like it!

I might be more inclined to admire the tenacity of the aspiring human warlock if they didn’t feel the need to interrupt me when I’m in the middle of things. It never fails. There I am, mired in the bureaucracy of Hell, when I feel a tug in my gut and the next thing I know I’m standing at a crossroads, face to face with some greenhorn who’s only just discovered this sort of thing actually works. _Usually_ by trying it. Honestly, it’s just exhausting. There they are, staring at me with a gaping mouth and wide eyes like they never once thought I’d actually appear. Though why they were out at a deserted crossroads in the middle of the night _not_ expecting their little ritual to work is beyond me.

 

“Yes?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and looking down on them - easy enough, from my near-seven foot height plus the heels I’m wearing. High heels are honestly one of my favorite of humanity’s inventions. They’re very versatile. Good for intimidation, torture, and looking good.

 

The silence that settles over the cool night air and stretches between us is deliciously awkward as my summoner tries to comprehend what they’ve brought upon themselves. I take these moments to study them. They’re tall and broad, arms and shoulders thick with muscle and bulging in their tight black t-shirt. They’re all in black, like they’re trying to be a shadow, but their skin is pale and almost glows in the moonlight. They have long red hair done up in a messy bun and they gaze at me with wide brown eyes.

 

I flick my eyes up and down their figure, taking it all in. Particularly the inverted cross inside of a pentagram on their t-shirt.

 

Typical.

 

“Can I help you?” I ask when it’s clear _they_ aren’t going to be the one to break the silence.

 

They lick their lips, flick their eyes away from me and then back. “You’re. You’re real,” they say, voice hoarse and quiet.

 

I roll my eyes. “Very astute. Now, did you call me for a reason or just to see? Because if it’s the latter, you won’t like how I retaliate.” They probably wouldn’t like any deals they made, either, not in the long run. But at least my time wouldn’t have been wasted.

 

Another moment passes, then a grin spreads across their face.

 

“I want to make a wager,” they say.

 

I groan. Not this bullshit again. “I don’t have time for this,” I say and try to give in to the ever-present tug Hell has on me. But I remain where I am.

 

“It worked!” my summoner says, pumping their fist in the air.

 

Keeping my expression impassive even as anger and frustration well up inside me, I look down, taking in the ground at my feet. I didn’t notice before, too annoyed at being summoned in the first place, but they’ve drawn a binding spell on the asphalt. They’re smart, I grudgingly admit to myself. They used a dark color of chalk, hard to spot on the black tar in the moonlit night.

 

I pull in a breath and look up at them again, holding their gaze. “You summoned a devil,” I say, voice low and steady. “And you trapped them.” I let hellfire flash in my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips as my summoner flinches. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

 

“I do,” they assure me, though I still doubt it. They cross their arms over their chest and walk slowly up to the edge of the binding circle, careful their toes don’t scuff the outline and free me. “I want immortality,” they say.

 

“Outside my purview,” I say, voice dripping with boredom and disinterest.

 

They look worried for a second, clearly racking their brain to recall the instructions from whatever book they found, but they school their expression quickly. “You make deals, right?” they ask. I nod and they forge ahead. “Then I want to make a deal, but not the kind that ends with you owning my soul in ten years or something.”

 

I sigh. Every once in awhile, a mortal thinks they’ve found a loophole. I usually let them think that because why give it away? It’s more fun when you return in ten years with their signed contract to show them the fine print they were too excited to read all those years ago. But they also don’t typically have me trapped in a binding circle, so nothing about this situation is _usual_. “Then what sort of deal do you propose?” I ask.

 

They try not to grin as they speak, excitement hurrying their words out in a rush. “We play a game,” they say, “a challenge. If I win, you grant me immortality.”

 

I roll my eyes. Always immortality with these creatures. I suppose if I had a finite lifespan I, too, might seek out ways to lengthen it. As it was, I rather wished I could shorten my own. Particularly now. “And what if you lose?” I ask.

 

They swallow hard, head ducking. They don’t want to give up anything, but they know that’s the only way I’ll agree. And it’ll have to be something good. I don’t play games with just anyone. “You get me,” they finally say. “My soul and my body. To do with as you will.”

 

“I’m from _Hell_ ,” I say. “I have plenty of souls and bodies. What makes you so special?”

 

They weren’t expecting this. Not surprising. Everyone thinks we devils just want to accumulate as many bodies and souls as we can. No one ever gives any thought to the inner workings of the Hellscape.

 

“Nothing, I guess,” they say after a few moments of thought. They gnaw at their lip, clearly wondering if they can get out of this safely. They’ve summoned and trapped a devil and things aren’t going how they planned, so they’re trying to decide if they can just release me and I’ll wander on back to the Hellscape without harming them.

 

I won’t. Perhaps if they hadn’t laid the trap I might have been lenient, but snares like this one aren’t just an annoying inconvenience. They hurt, whether you try to break free or not. You feel like your essence is being pressed down into the ground, held in place by the heaviest of objects. And the longer you’re trapped, the more it hurts.

 

Silence stretches between us as they consider their options. All I can do is wait, arms crossed over my chest, eyes fixed unblinking on them. They fidget under my gaze, glancing around, clearly searching for an exit.

 

“Well,” they finally say. “What do you _want_?”

 

I blink. No human has ever asked a devil that before, I guarantee it. Because summoning us, making deals with us, we certainly get what we want in the end because we’re good at what we do - manipulation particularly. But humans don’t _care_ what we want. For them, these deals are only ever about what they want. They know, deep down, that in the end we’ll be the ones who win, but they don’t like to think about that.

 

Yet here’s one now, actually asking what I want.

 

And I’m not sure what that is.

 

It’s easy when there’s a clear deal. A human asks for, say, success. I grant it, but I make sure to work a bit of fine print into the contract to ensure whatever success they have has a taint to it. They get what they want at the expense of something or someone else, always wondering if it was worth it.

 

But this is different. This isn’t a bargain, it’s a wager. I don’t have to dress my goal up with flowery language and doubletalk, I can come right out and tell this mortal what they’ll be getting if they lose. I’m not used to this. There are devils who only deal in wagers, but I’m not one of them and never planned to be. I like my bargains. Love the looming dread that always follows the mortals I deal with as they wait for me to return to collect my due. Wagers are trickier because, despite a devil’s best effort, there’s always that slim chance that you’ll lose and you’ll have to give the mortal what they want without any strings or time limits.

 

I study this human as the pain from the binding gets harder to ignore and consider. What do I want? How would I torment this human if they were sent to my section of the Hellscape? I try to move forward and the binding shoves me back. I grit my teeth against the pain and narrow my eyes in a glare as I come to a decision. “If I win,” I say, “I get to trap _you_ in a binding. Forever.”

 

They only hesitate for a moment before giving a slight nod. “Deal,” they say. They stride forward and hold out their hand, reaching across the binding’s outline. If I shake, I can’t touch them until the challenge is over. But this is my only way out and though I don’t know what sort of _game_ this mortal has in mind, it has to be something I can cheat at.

 

I take their hand and we shake. The deal is struck.

 

With the toe of their shoe, they smudge out part of the chalk in the binding’s outline. Immediately I feel relief, a weight lifted from my shoulders. I step out of the circle and breathe deep, relishing the feeling of the night air.

 

“All right,” I say after I give myself a moment to enjoy this freedom. “What’s the challenge?” I’m expecting chess or poker or something. What I’m not expecting is for them to have a case by their feet with two perfectly preserved flintlock pistols nestled inside. I look from the guns to their face, eyebrows raised. “Are you challenging me to a duel?” I ask.

 

They nod and duck their head at the same time, sheepish. “Yeah,” they say. They raise an arm, rubbing at their neck as they wait for my response.

 

“What makes you think this won’t end in disaster?” I ask.

 

“It probably will,” they say with a shrug. “But if I win, it’s worth it. I get to live forever.”

 

I don’t ask why they want to live forever. I don’t particularly care. I just want to get this over with, trap them in a binding circle, and go back to the Hellscape and nurse my wounded pride with some maiming and torturing.

 

Devils don’t particularly like guns. They’re crude and impersonal and while they get the job done, you can only really use them for one thing. They are, in a sense, very human. I take one of the pistols and hold it for a moment, then turn my back and press it against theirs. “Ten paces, I presume?” I ask.

 

“Ten paces,” they agree. “On the count of three.” They count off and we take our paces, then turn.

 

I can use a gun, but I’m not proficient, and it’s been so long since flintlocks were common I forget how inaccurate they are. I’m too concerned with being done with this, so when I aim and shoot I think I’m going to hit their shoulder. Instead, my shot goes wide while I feel the tearing punch of something hitting me in the chest. I look down at the hole in my body, watching it quickly heal back over as though nothing had happened.

 

I look back up and find the human is grinning at me. Anger rises in my throat like bile and I stalk towards them, but they seem unconcerned. Like angering a devil is the least of their worries.

 

“I won, fair and square,” they say.

 

They kneel and settle their gun back in the case then reach a hand out for mine. I place it in their palm, glaring down at them. Guns away, they slowly stand, meeting my gaze, undeterred. “Are you going to renege?”

 

I sigh. “No.” I snap my fingers. “There, you’re immortal. Have a nice eternity.”

 

They grin and scoop up their case and I watch them walk away, step entirely too jaunty for the place and the time of night and everything that just happened. But I suppose I can’t begrudge them their happiness. They got what they wanted.

 

For now.

 

The other thing no one gives any thought to: asking for eternal youth to go with their immortality.

 

I smile to myself as I sink down through the veils and back to the Hellscape.


End file.
